Finding Dr. Right. Lisa B. Kamps

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Finding Dr. Right - Lisa B. Kamps


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we shouldn’t put Mr. Conners to that kind of trouble.”

      Nathan stood up, trying not to flinch against the pain in his knee. He turned and finally faced Dr. Wilson, meeting her cold brown eyes with his own steady gaze in silent challenge. “Really, it’s no problem. I’ll send the tickets over by the end of the week. Will two be enough?”

      Her lips pursed into a tight line as she met his stare and Nathan knew she wouldn’t be able to say no. It would kill her, he was sure, but she wouldn’t say no to her son. A bell dinged behind him, followed by the hiss of the elevator door opening. He took a step backward and placed his hand on the frame of the elevator to prevent it from closing as he waited for her answer, surprised he was anxious to hear it. There may have been no dad, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone else.

      “Two. It’s just me and Mom.”

      “Matty!” She pointed a look of openmouthed surprise at her son then turned back to face him, a tinge of red scattered across her cheeks. Nathan offered her a slow smile and an even slower wink as he released his hold on the elevator door.

      “Two it is.”

      He was glad no one else was in the elevator to witness the cold look she gave him.

      Chapter Two

      “I realize that, yes.” Catherine looked up at the knock on her door and waved Brian inside when he poked his sandy-haired head through the opening. “Yes, Mrs. Johnson, I’m aware of that. I really do need to go now. I’ll call you later this week.”

      She placed the phone back in its cradle with a sigh, then offered Brian a half smile. “That woman is going to send me to an early grave.”

      “Was that Matty’s principal?”

      “The one and only.” She motioned for Brian to sit. “She seems to think that Matty should at least attend gym class. I keep telling her that I don’t think he’s ready.”

      “Catherine, it’s been ten months since his amputation. The cancer is gone. He should have started with his prosthesis months ago. I have to side with Mrs. Johnson this time.”

      Catherine met her partner’s serious blue gaze and let out a weary sigh. She pushed a strand of hair back over her ear and began straightening the papers scattered on her desk.

      “I think I know what’s best for Matty. I don’t need you ganging up on me, too. Not now.”

      “You’re going to have to give him some freedom sooner or later. He’s young and active. And healthy. Give him the chance to enjoy what he’s been missing.”

      She slammed her hand on her desk. “Not now. Not yet—he’s not ready.”

      “Are you sure he’s the one who’s not ready?”

      The words hung in the air between them, suspended in the sudden tension that threatened to overwhelm Catherine. Slowly, she released her pent-up breath and focused on the papers in front of her. Brian was right!

      If she was completely honest with herself, she’d admit that a large part of the problem with Matty was that she wasn’t ready. His health problems and the resulting amputation had happened too recently. The pain of seeing him suffer was still a raw wound, one she had no intention of reopening. She swallowed around the thickness in her throat.

      “His doctor suggested not letting him use the prosthesis now would cause more harm later.” Her words came out as a whisper, not quite hiding the pain and anxiety that was a part of her everyday life. She felt Brian’s gaze on her and reluctantly looked up, putting on her brave face. One glance at his sympathetic expression told her she had failed miserably. She blinked her eyes against the tears that threatened.

      “And?”

      Catherine took another deep breath and shrugged. “As a doctor, I know he’s right. But as Matty’s mom…I’m afraid he’s not ready yet. I’m afraid he’ll hurt himself. I’m afraid of a million other things I have no control over. I can’t go through that again.”

      She squeezed her eyes closed, willing the memories to disappear with the pain. All those months of uncertainty, of anguish. And fear. Her whole life had changed with Matty’s diagnosis, and while he seemed to have made a full recovery, Catherine was still terrified, still not ready to reenter life.

      “What does Matty want?” Brian’s quiet voice broke the silence, pulling Catherine from her maudlin thoughts.

      Unwilling to meet his clear gaze, Catherine kept her head bent. “I haven’t talked to him about it.”

      “Oh, Catherine.”

      She finally looked up and saw the censure mixed with sympathy. He shifted in his chair and continued to fix her with that clear gaze, made all the more powerful when seen through his wire-rimmed glasses. The seconds ticked by, echoed by the old grandmother clock that stood in one corner of her office.

      “All right, enough of the stare-down. I know I need to talk to him.” Her voice was scratchy and she cleared her throat. “I will. I just need a little more time.”

      Brian nodded once, seemingly satisfied with her answer. “Fine. I’ll give you a week.”

      “Brian—”

      He held up one hand to interrupt her, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I don’t want to hear it, Catherine. You know as well as I do that you’ll keep putting off telling him, just like you’re putting off living your life. You need the pressure of a deadline hanging over your head. Consider me your deadline. And speaking of living life…” He lifted a bulky package covered with the red and blue tape of a delivery service. “Are you ever going to open this? It’s been sitting out there with your name on it for two days. The staff is dying, wondering what the ever-dependable Dr. Wilson is ignoring.”

      Catherine shrugged, feigning indifference. She had seen the package delivered, had even made the mistake of signing for it before she realized what it was. She had tossed it onto the outside desk as soon as she had seen the sender’s name.

      “Who says I’m ignoring anything?”

      Brian tossed the package onto the desk, where it landed with a gentle smack in the middle of the papers she had just finished stacking. “Then open it.”

      “I don’t need to open it.” She pushed it to the side, only to have Brian push it back.

      “Don’t you want to see what’s in it?”

      “No, not really.” She picked it up and threw it back at him. Brian wasn’t ready for the sudden move and raised his hands in an attempt to ward off the flying missile, deflecting it to protect his face. The package landed at his feet.

      “Hmm.” Brian stared down at his feet, then looked back at her, his eyebrows raised in question. Catherine covered her mouth with her hand to hide her embarrassed smile.

      “Brian, I am so sorry.”

      He waved away her muffled apology and bent down to retrieve the package. He held it out to her, daring her with his eyes to take it, promising dire consequences if she didn’t. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d almost swear you were afraid to open it.”

      The challenge was clear in his voice and Catherine knew she’d never hear the end of it if she refused. Suddenly irritated with herself, she yanked the package from his hand and violently ripped it open. A fluff of light blue material fell to her desk, followed by a crisp white envelope.

      Brian released a low whistle as he pulled the material from her desk and held it up. The fluff turned out to be a jersey emblazoned with the logo of the Baltimore Banners, including Nathan’s name and number. Her heart twisted when she realized it was Nathan’s actual jersey, not a replica.

      “Not bad. Matty’ll get a kick out of this. Wish Nathan would have sent me one. These things are a hot commodity right now. Especially with the way the Banners are playing.”


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